Tears & Rain
by viper209n
Summary: He had vowed to keep her from harm. All it took was one night for all the years of successfully protecting her to disappear. Because now she was hurting and he knew he couldn't fix this. SandyKirsten
1. Chapter 1

This is set at the very beginning of Season Three. EXCEPT the kids have graduated high school and gone to college (Marissa is alive but it doesn't really matter). Also, Kirsten has been out of rehab for a while now and Charlotte is gone. Jimmy has his money problems and they are still a secret. Sandy is running the Newport Group and is not Caleb-like.

This chapter is practically set at 3x03 'The End of Innocence.'

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The O.C. or James Blunt's lyrical genius.

'_Maybe I'll find some peace tonight' – Angel by Sarah McLachlan_

OoOoO

Sandy sighed as his final meeting ended. It had been a long day. Running the Newport Group had required him to travel to Las Vegas for meeting with investors. Sandy was thankful that his hotel had everything he needed. That way he didn't have to leave and get into the traffic and congestion. Not that he didn't love The Vegas because he did. But going _alone _on _business_ was not what it was cracked up to be.

His last meeting had been in his hotel. It finished around 8. Sandy was exhausted but thankful that this trip was only one day. He was already prepared to get back home to real people. Well, _one_ real person.

He went downstairs and ate dinner in one of the hotel's restaurants. After eating, he went to his room, got a shower, and slipped into bed. It was 10:00. He grabbed his cell phone and began dialing. Before he finished, it began to ring. He smiled; they were so in sync.

"Hey baby. I was just calling you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was dialing when you called." She smiled.

"How were your meetings?"

"Long. I'm exhausted."

"Oh. Well, then I guess I'll let you go. So you can sleep."

"No, no, no." He pleaded into the phone. She smiled. "You're not keeping me from anything." He insisted.

"Are you sure?" She teased.

"Yes." He paused. "It's so good to talk to you."

"I know what you mean."

"How's your day been?"

"Fine. I went to lunch with Julie, came home, cleaned up. Pretty uneventful."

"In Newport? Wow. I didn't know they had uneventful."

"How was yours?

"Just meetings, meetings, and more meetings. They were good though. Went in our favor."

"That's good." There was a comfortable silence between them.

"I miss you." She whispered.

"I know what you mean."

"I'm not going to be able to sleep." She chuckled.

"I'm lucky I'm exhausted." They shared another silence. "I love you." He added.

"Mm. I love you, too."

"I'm ready to come home."

"Good."

Sandy thought for a moment. "Is it bad that we're so addicted to one another?"

"It is when I'm trying to sleep."

"Wait. So you didn't sleep over the summer?"

"Not well." She admitted softly.

There was a short pause.

"Me neither." He added quietly.

"Speaking of, I better let you go."

"Oh, Kirsten. Don't let me go." He teased.

She chuckled. "Get some sleep, my business man."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

They exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Kirsten put on her pajamas and got into bed. It was so much larger without Sandy there. She turned the light off and pulled her sleep mask down over her eyes, shielding them from any light. It was 11. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, noticing how cold it was without him next to her.

At 1 o'clock, the phone rang. Kirsten lifted the mask to find herself on Sandy's side of the bed. She rolled over and answered the phone.

"Hello?" She said groggily.

"Kirsten?" The reply was slurred.

"Who's this?"

"It's Jimmy!" He yelled into the receiver.

"Oh. Jimmy. Why are you yelling? Actually, better question. Why are you calling me at 1 in the morning?"

There was silence at the other end as Jimmy processed the words. At last, he spoke.

"What?" He shrieked into the phone.

Kirsten rolled her eyes. "Why did you call, Jimmy?"

"I can't drive!"

"Well, I would agree with that. And as happy as I am about you not driving while intoxicated, why didn't you call Julie?"

Another silence, followed by "What?"

"Julie? Your fiancé? Why didn't you call her?"

"I did."

"And?"

"She said she might need some help picking me up or something." After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. "Kirsten. Please."

Kirsten sighed. "Where are you?"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." He said hurriedly.

He told her the name of the bar and they hung up. Kirsten threw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt of Sandy's. She got into the Range Rover and drove to pick up Jimmy.

Around 2 o'clock, Sandy woke up with a start. His eyes sprung open and he sat up slowly. His head hurt and he was extremely nauseas. He felt like he wasn't supposed to be here. It kind of felt like he had forgotten something. Or maybe needed to do something. The feeling quickly spread over him and made him feel very nervous. He attempted to shake it off. He rolled over, shut his eyes, and tried to go to sleep.

At 3 o'clock, the phone rang. Sandy rolled over and picked it up, checking the caller ID. It read "HOME."

"Hey baby." He answered sleepily. "Still no stripper." He said with a smile.

"Sandy." The other line said. It was not his wife's voice.

"Julie?" He asked after a moment of contemplation. He looked at the phone's screen again. It still read "HOME." He put the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah it's me." She said shakily. Her tone frightened Sandy, along with the fact that she was calling from his home and it was 3 o'clock in the morning.

All that he could think of was what he had left in that house. All he could think of was blonde hair and blue eyes, long eyelashes and a huge smile.

"What's wrong, Julie? What's happened?" He asked earnestly.

The space between Sandy's question and Julie's answer seemed to last an eternity. At least to Sandy, it did.

As he waited, time stopped for a moment. _Don't say it. Don't say her name. Not her. Please. _He shut his eyes.

Julie sniffled. "It's Kirsten."

As his fears were confirmed, his eyes tightened and his jaw clenched. He heard Julie scrambling for words, none of which he could register.

He cut off Julie's failed attempt at an explanation of what happened.

"I'm coming. I'm on my way." He slapped his phone shut and threw some clothes on. He grabbed his luggage and went straight to the LV airport. He prayed for a miracle.

He quickly walked up to the counter. "Where are planes headed tonight? I mean, today? This morning?" He fumbled.

"We only have two going out within the hour. One to New York. One to Dallas."

"What about buses?"

"The station only receives after 12."

Sandy turned away and started praying again. It was to late/early for car rental. He wasn't sure how far a cab could take him. Hitchhiking still wasn't out of the question. His eyes scanned the airport. There were a handful of people inside. Sandy's eyes landed on a pilot. A miracle.

David Pennington was a tall man in his late 30's with short brown hair and brown eyes. He had been the pilot for the Newport Group before Caleb died. He and Sandy had met several times. They shared a love for the Yankees and quiet digs at Caleb while his back was turned.

David was talking to a stewardess when Sandy walked up. David recognized him immediately.

"Sandy!" He exclaimed as he pulled him into a hug.

"Hey David."

"It's good to see ya!"

"You too."

"Well what's up? Whatcha been up to?"

"Just trying to keep the Newport Group going."

"Ooh. Good luck with that."

"What are you doing now?"

"Still a private pilot. Just flying rich people around."

"Did you just get in or are you about to head out?"

"Just got in."

"Oh. Well, do you think you could fly me to Newport?"

David checked his watch. "Uh… sure, Sandy." For the first time he noticed how pale Sandy was. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"It's Kirsten. Something's happened but I don't…" He rambled dejectedly.

Apparently, that's all David needed to hear. "Let's go."

Before Sandy knew it, they had been granted liftoff and landing. Apparently, Caleb Nichol's name still intimidated even after death. When the airport heard that Caleb Nichol's pilot was planning on landing in approximately 45 minutes, they didn't hesitate in saying yes.

As they took off, Sandy closed his eyes and thought back to before he left for Las Vegas.

"_I could always go with you." She had said as they lay close together._

"_You could but I'll just be gone one day. And all I'll be doing is going to meetings."_

"_Yeah but you could go to your meetings," She picked her head up from his chest to look at him. "And I could be waiting for you afterwards. In the hotel room. So I could help you…" She looked down at his chest and began to draw imaginary circles with her finger. "Unwind."_

_He chuckled at her but remained silent. When her offer wasn't immediately taken, her head popped up in realization. She gave him an intense stare of shock._

"_You don't want me to go so you can get a stripper!" She shrieked incredulously._

"_What?! Kirsten." She gave him a look that said she was all-knowing and had him completely figured out. "Baby, no. I get it so much from you I don't have enough strength for a stripper." She slapped him playfully. "Well, it's the truth!" He defended._

_She smiled and looked back down. She couldn't disagree with him. With the boys away at college, they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. She brought her eyes back up to meet his. He tucked a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear and cupped her cheek with his hand. She held his hand there with hers._

"_No stripper." She stated. "Promise?"_

"_Yes." He said obediently._

"_So if it's not a stripper, why can't I go with you?" She gave him those puppy dog eyes and watched his face falter. He couldn't resist._

"_Actually, I don't think I can." She said as she rested her head again on his chest. "Julie and I are supposed to meet for lunch so we can go over things for her shower and ceremony and God knows what else."_

"_Shouldn't Jimmy be forced to help pick out silverware and napkins?"_

"_He's busy with work. Selling yachts is tedious business, I guess."_

"_Ah yes. Naturally." Sandy said without conviction. "Are you going to be okay by yourself?" He suddenly became protective._

_Kirsten rolled her eyes and picked up her head to look at him. "Sandy, do you want me to go with you or not?"_

"_I want you to be safe."_

_She smiled sweetly. "I'll be fine."_

_Fine. I'll be fine._

Before he knew it, they were there.

"I'm sorry this is so rushed and I kept you up. Made you fly down here and go back." Sandy rambled apologies.

"Sandy, please. Go. I hope she's okay."

_Me too. _Sandy rushed out of the plane. He was in Newport, now he had to get home. Kirsten had driven him to the airport so he'd have to get a cab. Coming to Newport after living in New York, he could definitely tell the difference among the taxis and their drivers. There was something off about Newport cabbies. Sandy was completely annoyed by them. He would have to take it though.

As he walked though the lobby, someone called his name. He turned and saw a police officer jogging toward him. It was Steve Harris. Sandy knew him from working at the PD's office.

"Hey Sandy! Long time, no see."

"Hey Steve. I know." They began to catch up as they walked toward Sandy's cab.

"Flying early, aren't you? And privately. Nice."

Sandy put his suitcase in the cab. "I got a call. Something's happened. With Kirsten."

"Is she okay?" Steve's tone and face completely changed.

"I don't know." Sandy said quietly.

"Well, come on." Sandy looked up, not completely understanding. "Let me drive."

Sandy grabbed his suitcase and went with Steve to his patrol car.

"Where to?" Steve asked as they buckled up.

"Uh… home, I guess." Sandy realized he wasn't sure where she was; hospital? Morgue? He became nauseas at the thought. Julie had called from his house so that was his best guess and his greatest hope for the moment.

"Pelican Cove?"

"Yeah."

With the siren and lights on, it took no time to get there. Not that there was much traffic but not having to stop at all lights and signs was definitely appreciated. The 15 minute trip only took 5 minutes. Sandy was thankful for his second miracle.

Steve turned off the sirens and lights to enter the neighborhood, knowing Sandy wouldn't want the publicity.

"I hope she's okay."

"Thanks." As soon as Steve slowed down enough, Sandy jumped out of the car with his suitcase and ran to the front door. As soon as he was in the door, Julie was near him. He dropped his suitcase.

"What happened? What's wrong?" He asked Julie. His eyes searched the room and found Jimmy passed out on his couch.

"Sandy…" Julie struggled and wouldn't make eye contact. Sandy could tell that she really did not want to be the one to break the news to him. "she, uh…" Her eyes met his and saw his desperation. "she was raped."

Sandy shut his eyes as he digested the news. His throat closed and his lungs deflated. Something sharp and hot was thrust into his heart, as his stomach became heavy.

His eyes opened and Julie saw the tears that rimmed the lids. He was looking at the floor as if searching for something.

"I know a million questions must be running through your mind right now." She rattled off potential questions that he could be thinking.

"Where is she?" He asked softly.

"Huh?" She asked, not hearing him.

"Where is she?"

"Oh. She's in your bedroom." Sandy turned to go to his room. "Sandy…" Julie put her hand on his shoulder and he stopped to look at her. "She hasn't said one word since we brought her home. She only talked to the doctors. And even then…"

"Thank you, Julie." He whispered sincerely and continued to the bedroom.

He knocked lightly on the door so he wouldn't frighten her. She didn't answer but he hadn't really expected her to. He walked in slowly and shut the door quietly. He could see her under the blankets, on his side of the bed. He kneeled beside the bed and looked at her. Her hands were holding on to the pillow. He covered her left and stroked her wedding ring.

As his skin made contact with hers, her eyes opened and Sandy could tell that she had only been pretending to be asleep, in case he had been Jimmy or Julie.

"Hey baby." He whispered.

"Hi."

Their eyes held the others. He looked deep into her eyes, staring into her soul. She looked into his eyes, drinking in every drop of comfort they offered. He lifted his hand from hers and put his arm underneath her neck. He pulled her close and felt her tense body relax. Her hands held onto his shirt. She breathed deeply and exhaled, finally receiving comfort. They remained in an embrace for a few minutes, neither saying a word. He stroked her hair and she closed her eyes.

Sandy pulled his head out of the crook of her neck and kissed her cheek. He looked her in the eye.

She began to speak, shakily. "Did…" Her mouth was dry and hoarse. She swallowed thickly before trying again. "did Julie… did she tell you…"

"Not the details…"

Her eyes suddenly had a bit of panic in them. "I want to tell you… but…"

"Not tonight. It's okay." He said soothingly. He tucked a piece of blonde hair behind her ear and smoothed the rest of it. "I just wish I could fix this."

Kirsten lifted up the covers and made room for Sandy to get in. He saw that she was wearing her comfort clothes, pajama pants and one of his sweatshirts. He got up from his knees and slid in next to her. He lay on his side and pulled her close. Her head rested on his chest and she could hear his heart beating.

He smoothed her hair down once more and kissed the top of her head. His hands slowly rubbed up and down her back. She hugged him tightly and buried her head into his chest. A feeling washed over her, the same way Sandy always made her feel. Safe. And she finally began to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

Sandy tried to focus on the reliable sounds of the air conditioner. It was the only way he could find to keep himself calm.

Normally, he would listen to Kirsten's gentle breathing, with the occasional snore, to relax. Of course, this wasn't a normal night. There was no hint of seeing normal ever again. Sandy could not look at his wife or even hear her without feeling guilt, anger, and overwhelming grief. His heart ached over what happened, what he hadn't prevented.

Surprisingly Kirsten had slept well. Sandy was afraid she would be plagued by nightmares. But aside from the occasional whimper and a tightened grip on his shirt, she slept soundly.

It was only when _his_ emotions got a hold on him that Kirsten seemed to become upset. Sandy would gaze at her calm face, stained with the unmistakable mark of fingers around her mouth. She was forced to sleep on her right side; the red mark down the left side of her delicate face would turn into an ugly bruise.

The thought that someone could hurt such an innocent soul caused a sob to catch in his throat. He closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep away the horror but images of Kirsten's terror-filled expression haunted him.

As he struggled to hold back his tears, his chest heaved. He tried to control the movement as he heard Kirsten whimper. She seemed so in tune with him. As long as he was calm, so was she. But if he became agitated, she was disturbed by it.

So he remained silent. The forced control of his emotions was causing pressure to build inside of him. His ears felt like they needed to pop and his lungs urged to breathe much faster than he would allow. His eyes burned with tears he could let escape while his throat constricted with the scream he had to swallow. His muscles ached to rip something to pieces. But mostly, his mind thirsted for knowledge he didn't have.

Where had this happened? Who? What sick son of a bitch bastard had done this to her? And why? What possible reason could anyone have to hurt his beloved wife? Especially like this?

All night these questions plagued his mind.

Fatigue and exhaustion finally caught him. Without any energy for his mind to put pictures in his head, Sandy began to doze in and out of a dreamless sleep.

A few hours later, he woke with a start as Kirsten shifted beside him. She began to stretch but didn't get very far before springing back with a grimace. Her face showed evidence of an attack but the wincing told Sandy the proof also lay elsewhere. His stomach turned at the thought.

"Hey," he said, so softly he thought maybe she hadn't heard.

She turned to him and responded quietly, "Hi."

Sandy struggled with what to say next. All the things he was coming up with were stupid. He started to speak but stopped himself.

She helped him. "I'm really glad you're here," she said softly, hugging him tightly.

"I'm right here," he assured her, his lips in her hair. He pressed a kiss to her head. "Do you want something to drink? Some water, coffee? Orange juice?"

"Coffee would be great."

Sandy knew the warm drink would comfort her. Coffee would be routine, even when nothing else was.

"You want to stay here or come with me?"

"I'll stay."

"Okay."He slowly slid out of the bed. Kirsten gripped his pillow as soon as Sandy was away from her, needing to feel a presence against her.

He padded his way to the kitchen, his legs heavy from exhaustion. A presence in the kitchen startled him.

"Sandy!"Julie exclaimed, sounding shocked to see him. She peered around him.

"She's still in bed," Sandy said hoarsely, answering the question before it could be asked.

Julie nodded her head.

"Not that I don't appreciate the coffee, Julie," he started while grabbing a mug.

"Oh, yes. What am I still doing here?" She finished for him. "Well, I wanted to be here for you and Kirsten. Plus, Jimmy passed out on the couch and once he's out…" her voice drifted off.

"Mm,"was Sandy's only reply. He mixed the hot drink while Julie stood awkwardly in the kitchen. As he walked back toward the master bedroom, Jimmy twitched on the couch.

"Looks like he's up." Sandy said. "I appreciate you wanting to help, Julie. But right now, Kirsten needs… Well I'm not exactly sure but we need to figure it out together."

"I understand. If you need anything, anything at all…."

"We know." He smiled a bit. "Thanks, Julie." As he laid eyes on the hung-over man on his couch, Sandy couldn't help but feel anger.

He knew Jimmy would never hurt Kirsten. But it was odd, almost disrespectful. Kirsten had been attacked last night. She'd been raped. Meanwhile, Jimmy was out drinking. Perhaps celebrating his engagement.

Kirsten was in her bed, shivering against a pillow. And Jimmy was sleeping it off on her couch. It just wasn't right. It wasn't fair. And it rubbed Sandy wrong.

But whatever he felt, it no longer mattered. Sandy shook anything other than his wife from his mind. She was all that mattered.

Softly, he entered their room. She opened her eyes slowly, smiling softly at the sight of him. Or maybe it was the sight of the coffee. Sandy didn't care which had caused the tiny grin. It made his heart jump to see it either way.

Silently he handed her the warm cup.

"That was fast."

"Yeah. Julie and Jimmy stayed the night. In case, we needed them."

The front door could be heard shutting with perfect timing.

"And we didn't. So they're gone." Kirsten didn't say anything, making Sandy think he had acted prematurely. "Unless you do need something. I can stop them."

"No," she said quietly but firmly. "You're all I need."

Sandy sighed, sitting down beside her. They were silent as Kirsten enjoyed her coffee.

"You didn't get yourself a cup?"

"Oh. No. I can't imagine eating or drinking right now."

"Oh," she said before pausing for a moment. "I should tell you what happened."

"There's no rush, baby. Only when you're ready."

"I'm not sure when 'ready' would be." She admitted. "But I know you, Sandy. I need to tell you."

After hanging up with Jimmy, Kirsten got out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and Sandy's favorite t-shirt. When she arrived at the bar, she had to go inside to find Jimmy. For a recently reformed alcoholic, it wasn't the easiest thing to do. But for her oldest friend, she would do it.

After stumbling with him through the bar, Kirsten got Jimmy to the Range Rover, deciding not to wait for Julie.

"Here, Jimmy." She propped him against the back of the vehicle before moving to the side to open the back door.

Suddenly, there was a strong hand over her mouth and an equally strong arm turning her around. He tried forcing her into the back seat but she struggled fiercely.

Hearing the fight, Jimmy stumbled to see what was happening. He moved slowly toward them and reached out to grab the man. However, he wasn't much of a match for the assailant. Jimmy took a blow that knocked him backwards into another car. He hit his head on the door and lost consciousness.

The man had released Kirsten's mouth to punch Jimmy and she was able to scream for a moment but it was no use. With Jimmy incapacitated, the thug focused all of his efforts on Kirsten. He pushed her into the back seat of the vehicle, releasing her again to close the door. He began tugging at her sweatpants.

Panic set in. Kirsten knew if she didn't act quickly she didn't stand a chance. His hand covered her mouth firmly so Kirsten opened it widely, allowing a finger to slip in. She bit down as hard as she could. It worked if only for a moment. Her attacker sat up, hollering, and snatched his hand back. However, Kirsten was unable to take advantage of the freedom. He silenced her again, in such a way that he no longer had to keep a hold of her mouth.

Tears welled up in her eyes as he tugged her pants off. They ran down her cheeks as she clenched her eyes shut when she heard his own pants come down. The sobs caught in her throat as this stranger forced himself into her. She mumbled incoherent things to herself to drown out the noise of his satisfied groans. She wanted to die as she felt him finish inside of her.

He didn't waste much time. He redressed, exited the vehicle and left. Kirsten quickly pulled on her pants but couldn't make herself move afterwards. She pulled her knees tightly against herself and sat in the car.

The next thing Kirsten knew Julie was there. Yelling "Oh my God!" and calling 911.

She sat in a trance as the paramedics tended to her and the police asked question.

"Mrs. Cohen," one of the cops said softly. She recognized him as one of Sandy's friends. Suddenly she was overcome with embarrassment. She didn't want anyone seeing her like this. Unfortunately, it was necessary.

After countless questions, evidence photos, and invasive examinations, they let Julie take Kirsten home.

"Sandy,"had been her one request.

"I just wanted you."

"And I wasn't here," he said quietly.

"No, Sandy, that's not what I meant."

"I should have been here." Nausea had set in during her story and Sandy was sure he was about to lose it.

"Sandy. Baby." She grabbed his hand. "You didn't know. This is not your fault." She said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

They were silent for a moment. Sandy found that he had to look away from her.

"Is there anything you want to ask?" She wanted him to know they could talk about it. She knew how his lawyer brain worked. He could find a question anywhere.

"Were you able to describe him to police?"

Kirsten breathed in deep. "Yeah. It was dark and he surprised me. I tried not to look at him… during. But I told them what I remembered. Tall, strong, dark hair. Not much to go on, I guess."

"No, baby, you did great. Every little bit helps." He looked back down at his hands.

"Sandy," she knew it was probably premature but she had to ask. "Are you going to be okay?"

His sad blue eyes met her concerned ones. As he looked at her and the marks on her face, marks that her magic concealer would have no power against, his heart shattered.

He leaned over into her, his face nuzzling her neck, trying not to hurt her. He let the tears slip out of his eyes.

"I just can't understand how someone could hurt you," he whispered, his voice rough.

Kirsten held him to her, placing a comforting hand on his head. Tears of her own slipped down her cheeks as she felt his, wet against her neck.

They stayed like that for several minutes, finding comfort in their silence.

A thought occurred to Sandy and he asked quietly. "How are we going to tell the boys?"

Kirsten stiffened. "I don't want to." She didn't want them to carry this around.

Seth was in Rhode Island and Ryan was in Berkeley. She didn't want them running home to tend to her or protect her. She didn't want them afraid of the world. And most of all, she didn't want them to look at her differently. She was the same Kirsten she'd always been.

She was strong enough to beat this. She wasn't going to be afraid of every shadow and she didn't want them to be either. It was their freshman year and Kirsten wanted them to focus on that, not her.

"Baby, it's Newport. We don't have a choice." He paused. "If we don't tell them, someone else will."

After a small bowl of oatmeal, Kirsten was able to take a pain pill. When she told Sandy she was going to take a bath, he ran the water for her and got her towel ready. She had to politely ask him to leave as she started to undress.

He couldn't deny that he was a little hurt that he wasn't trusted to stay. Surely, she knew he wouldn't try anything. Despite his feelings, he left her alone and busied himself with changing their sheets.

Meanwhile, Kirsten slowly sank into the warm tub. She knew she had hurt Sandy's feelings but she also knew that he couldn't see her like this. Kirsten had taken one look in the mirror before quickly looking away, hating what she saw.

Barely any patch of skin was of normal color. She was a mosaic of red and darkening purple. There was dark crusted blood on the right corner of her mouth where she had reinjured it while eating breakfast. There was a large portion of the left side of her face that was bruising slowly.

Her arms were sore but visibly bore no evidence. However, her stomach was bruising from the strike he used to silence her.

Visually, her face was the worst but emotionally, the hardest part to look at was her hips. She vowed that Sandy would never see it. She knew he couldn't handle it.

On her left hip, there was a nearly perfect handprint. Proof that it hadn't been a dream. Proof that another man had his hands on her.

It would kill Sandy.

Alone in the bathroom and surrounded by warm water, Kirsten finally let herself cry.

As Kirsten enjoyed the warmth of her bath, Sandy stayed close just in case she needed him. He shot out of bed when she opened the bathroom door.

"Did you enjoy your bath?" He asked awkwardly.

"I did. I think the medicine and the warm water have knocked me out thought." She said as she laid back into the bed. "Did you change the sheets?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. I hope that's okay."

"Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Is there anything else I can do?"

She shook her head. He sat down beside her and gently stroked her wet hair.

"I love you, Kirsten." He whispered to her when he knew she was asleep. He left a gentle kiss on her forehead before leaving their room.

Despite wanting a stronger drink, he poured a glass of water and stood at the kitchen sink, looking out the window. The day was carrying on as if nothing was wrong and it frustrated Sandy. He wished it would rain and storm. He wanted the weather to reflect his mood. He wanted the rain to flood out the man who had done this. Let the rain nearly drown him before hitting him with hail stones and finally striking him down forever with lightning.

Unfortunately, the sun shone, bright as ever. The waves still lapped at the shore. People were out sunbathing and shopping, laughing and smiling.

Sandy looked away from the ocean toward the pool house. A certain leather bag caught his eye and gave him an idea. He rushed to check on Kirsten one more time. Once satisfied that she was asleep, Sandy went out to the pool house. He didn't try to find the gloves that they'd given Ryan, despite his refusal to use them. He sat on the bed and looked at the punching bag.

Tall, strong, dark hair. That wasn't much to go on for Sandy to picture the man who had hurt his wife. As he stared at the bag, one face came to mind. Jimmy Cooper.

Sandy stood up and moved toward the bag. Despite knowing it hadn't been Jimmy, Sandy punched him. He hit Jimmy's weasely little face again and again.

Why didn't you protect her?

He could hear Kirsten. _"Because he was knocked out." _Sandy pushed her voice away and continued pounding the leather. Before long, Sandy was panting but he wasn't tired.

Without realizing it, he finished with Jimmy and started on the real attacker. Punch after punch connected and they were becoming more intense.

_How could you hurt someone so perfect? So innocent? So good?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why weren't you there?_

It was that question that made Sandy realize it wasn't Jimmy or the attacker he was hitting. It was himself.

_Why didn't you protect her?_

_Why didn't you take her with you?_

_Why did you fail her?_

As guilt and anger overtook him, Sandy couldn't differentiate from the sweat and the tears.

Finally, his arms stopped and he sat down with his back against the foot of the bed, panting.

The bag swung back and forth, sending a rhythmic squeak through the pool house.

Sandy put his head in his hands as he sobbed.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : _Wow. It has been too long since I have posted. But here is a new chapter if anyone is still reading. :)_

It is amazing how tragedy can affect a person's perception of time. It seemed like weeks since that night but, in reality, only a few days had passed.

Kirsten struggled both physically and emotionally. She could barely stand to look in the mirror for the ugly bruises staring back. They made her feel self conscious and she knew they nauseated Sandy. They served as a constant reminder for that traumatic night.

Her road to recovery was difficult mentally, as well. She had been sitting in the backyard, watching the ocean and becoming entranced by the water. With her attention miles away, hearing feet shuffle brought back frightful memories. When she felt a weight on her shoulder, it registered as heavy and forceful, not calming and soft as Sandy's hand actually was. Kirsten flinched away from him with a gasp of pure terror and Sandy had been tiptoeing around her ever since.

Most times, Kirsten felt completely alone as Sandy struggled with his own grief. He barely functioned in his trancelike state and Kirsten almost felt like he wasn't even there. Of course, he remained attentive to her, as much as he could be without startling her. But whatever he was 'busy' with, he couldn't stop thinking of that night. He could see her face full of fear and the harsh, unforgiving hands that hurt her.

Their only conversations consisted of 'Do you need anything?' and 'No but thank you.'

The realization that they hadn't talked in what felt like week hurt Kirsten and she knew it wasn't healthy for either of them. They were not coping. However, she was powerless to stop it.

One night, she had snuck out of bed to find Sandy in the pool house. For a few moments, Kirsten watched her husband bloody his knuckles on the hard leather before turning away. She leaned against the wall where he wouldn't be able to see her and listened to the pounding. The rhythm continued for a few more minutes before suddenly being joined by a noise that made the hair on her arms stand up. An emotional yell had come from Sandy. It spoke all the words he had been keeping bottled up. It was just a noise but Kirsten could feel its meaning in the pit of her stomach and the bottom of her heart. Part of her wanted to go wrap her arms around him. The other part feared he would pull away from her and she couldn't handle that rejection right now.

So instead, she returned to bed as quietly as she had come, took a pill to relax herself enough so she could fall asleep without his warm arms around her.

The next day, Sandy sat at the kitchen table, semi-reading the newspaper.

"The detectives are on their way." Kirsten said softly. "They want to do another interview. See if I remember anything else."

"Do you?" Sandy asked eagerly.

"Honestly, I can't even remember what I told them that night."

Sandy wanted to tell her she didn't have to do this if she wasn't ready but his hatred for the bastard who had done this was bigger than anything else. Catching him was contingent on information from that night and that responsibility rested on Kirsten's story.

She watched Sandy for a moment until it was obvious that he wasn't going to speak. She took her tea out beside the pool and waited for the detectives.

Not long afterwards, Sandy answered a knock at the door.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Cohen. I'm Detective Gray and this is Detective Parker."

Detective Gray was a tall, dark haired gentleman in his mid-thirties and his partner was a younger auburn-haired woman. Kirsten remembered Detective Gray vaguely from that night but it was Detective Parker who had taken her first statement.

"Come on in."

"Thank you." The detectives approached the couch where Kirsten was sitting. "Hi, Mrs. Cohen. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, thank you. Is there anything I can get you? Something to eat or drink?"

"No, thank you, ma'am," Detective Gray smiled at her. Of course, in Newport, she would always be a gracious host, even under these horrible circumstances. "Are you ready to get started?"

Kirsten nodded her head and Sandy sat next to her, taking one of her hands in his own.

"Tell us again what happened that night." Detective Gray said as he set a tape recorder on the table.

Kirsten's mouth was suddenly very dry as she thought about all the memories she would be asked to repeat. Among other gruesome particulars, she would have to tell them how the assailant had struck her with the power adapter from the backseat to silence her screams. She still had to pile on concealer to hide the mark he had left on her face. Kirsten looked down at her hands, her gaze lingering on the one Sandy was holding. She hadn't considered how hard it would be to give them all the details, especially with Sandy present. And she certainly didn't know how to tell him that.

Thankfully, she didn't have to as Detective Gray stepped in. "Mr. Cohen. Perhaps I could talk with you while Detective Parker speaks to your wife."

Sandy looked to Kirsten to see if she would feel comfortable with that; she nodded at him. The men went outside toward the yard.

"Thank you." Kirsten said softly. "My husband… he's taking this really hard." She paused. "I've told him about that night but not in as much detail as I am sure you'll need."

Detective Parker looked at her apologetically.

As Kirsten recounted that night, Sandy attempted to answer Detective Gray's questions.

"How are you doing with all this, Mr. Cohen?"

"I'll be better when we catch this son of a bitch," Sandy said shortly.

"I understand."

Sandy waited as Detective Gray tried to think of the right words to say. Sandy decided to take the pressure off of him.

"You don't have to babysit me, Detective. I know my wife didn't want me in that room."

Gray didn't have a response for that so he followed the older man's gaze and they silently looked toward the ocean.

After several minutes, Sandy spoke again. "I assume all of the evidence has been collected."

"Yes," Gray knew Sandy was a lawyer and understood how the process worked. He had heard good things about this man and, though he was trying not to let this case become personal, he could feel himself getting pulled in. "Tests are being run as we speak on-" He cut himself off, not wanting to say the words in front of the victim's husband.

"Speak frankly. I can handle it."

"Tests are being run on fluids, hairs, and blood. Although, it seems that all of the blood is either from Mrs. Cohen or Mr. Cooper; we aren't taking any chances."

Sandy nodded his head but continued to silently stare over the water.

"We are getting Mrs. Cohen's statement this morning and this afternoon, we'll speak to Mr. Cooper again."

"I know your job has certain policies-" Sandy began before Gray cut him off.

"I'll keep you as posted as possible."

"Thank you. Kirsten…" Sandy paused, not trusting his voice to keep. "She's my world. I need to know that this situation is being taken care of."

"Yes, sir."

After the detectives had gone, Sandy received a call from Julie, asking if she and Jimmy could bring some lunch over to the house. After eating on the patio, Sandy excused himself to the kitchen.

"How are you?" Julie had saved the conversation until after lunch. "Is there anything we can do for you?" She knew Kirsten would not want to talk about it while eating, if at all.

"Yeah, anything," Jimmy agreed.

Kirsten kept her eyes away from Jimmy. "No, I'm fine."

"How about Sandy? Is he okay?" Julie asked, knowing this had to be affecting Kirsten's husband.

Kirsten hesitated on her answer.

"Jimmy, why don't you see if Sandy needs some help in the kitchen or something?"

Jimmy tired not to react to the suggestion. The last thing he wanted to do was be alone with Sandy Cohen. Despite his reservations, he left the women so they could talk alone.

"I thought maybe some 'girl time' would be better." Julie said with a soft smile. "Do you even want to talk? I mean, we could just sit here with our tea if you want."

"Talking might be nice. If I can remember how."

"Sandy's not talking?"

Kirsten shook her head.

"Wow. Never thought I'd see the day."

Kirsten couldn't help but smile at Julie's dig. It was short-lived, however. "Somehow he's taking this harder than I am. I think he's trying to protect me… from himself. I don't know."

"Well…" Julie tried to think of the right words. "Sandy loves you so much. He'd jump in front of a train if he thought it would protect you.

"I know," Kirsten said sadly. "It's just… he's the only one who can fix this, fix me. But I can't ask him to do that when he's so broken himself."

Sandy was at the island in the kitchen when Jimmy walked in. He did not even look up from the crossword puzzle, trying to keep his mind clear.

"Could I have a cup?" Jimmy asked, motioning to the coffee pot.

"Sure," Sandy mumbled, finally moving his head. The first thing Sandy noticed was the cut on Jimmy's forehead, where he had hit the tire and hubcap that night. It was a good sized gash by most standards but when compared to Kirsten's wounds, it was nothing. Sandy's stomach lurched.

As he fixed his coffee, Jimmy tried to think of something to say to Sandy.

"I figured maybe the girls could use some time to themselves."

"Probably not a bad idea."

"How are you, man?"

Sandy took a deep breath. "Not good." He finally looked back up at Jimmy. His eyes were dark and didn't give much away but it was obvious that something was behind them.

"Well, if you need to talk, I may not be exactly who you want to bare your soul to…" As Jimmy took in Sandy's expression, he began to feel uncomfortable, awkward, and, as a result, more talkative. "But you look like you're brooding more than your son and that can't be healthy. I know how you're hurting-"

"Don't!" Sandy snapped. "Don't you dare tell me you know how I feel."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Well, think about your words before you speak them. I can't handle much from you, Jimmy. Not right now when all I'm thinking about is how much I blame you for this."

Jimmy hung his head and began to speak more softly. "I shouldn't have called her and asked her to pick me up."

"No, you shouldn't have. If you hadn't been so damn drunk, maybe you would have stood a chance of protecting her instead of passing out when you bumped your head."

Jimmy's hand moved to his forehead at Sandy's words, putting together what he meant.

"I know, man. I'm sorry." Despite knowing it was wrong, Jimmy felt a bit relieved.

"I heard you," Sandy grumbled.

Jimmy figured no good could come from staying in the kitchen. He returned to the patio to find Kirsten alone.

"Julie's in the bathroom," she said shortly, her gaze still on the ocean.

"Ok. Well, could you help me find a bandage and some ointment?" He asked, motioning to his head. Kirsten could feel her blood begin to boil.

"They're in the master bathroom. Sandy can help you."

"He's doing the dishes. Besides, he said he doesn't know where they are."

Kirsten rolled her eyes before leading the way into the bathroom. As she rummaged through the cabinet, Jimmy leaned on the edge of the sink.

"So… I talked to Sandy."

"Did he talk back?"

"Yes. He wasn't like himself."

"No," Kirsten said softly, momentarily forgetting who she was talking with. She quickly remembered. "He's having a hard time coming to grips with what happened," she added harshly.

"I know you lied to him, Kirsten."

"So I guess you also know that if I hadn't, you wouldn't be breathing right now."

Jimmy's eyes went from smug to sympathetic. "Kirsten, I'm-"

"Sorry. I know. You've already told me. Repeatedly," Kirsten marveled that he could change his tone so quickly. Had he always been so manipulative?

"Doesn't mean it's not true."

"Well, it holds a lot less clout, don't you think?" She snapped back. "Here."

As she handed him the bandage, she finally really looked at him. He was looking at her with apology in his eyes. She recalled how smug they had been when he discovered that Sandy did not know. She considered how quickly they would turn to fear if Sandy were to find out. She thought back to how his eyes looked that night.

She couldn't look at him anymore. The memories were replaying in her mind and her heart began to race.

"I can't believe you even came here. Some chance to take," she breathed.

"I had to see you, see how you are doing. I really didn't think you'd tell him."

Kirsten's fear left her in an instant. She turned quickly toward Jimmy, pissed to find that smug look trying to return to his face.

She spoke sternly, anger replacing all fear. "Don't for a second think I did that for you. I can't even look at you, Jimmy! The only thing I'd like more than telling Sandy the truth is not having a husband in jail. That's why I haven't told him. For Sandy's sake, not yours."

She paused to breathe, letting him speak if he dared. When he didn't, Kirsten continued, nowhere near finished.

"How dare you come here! My house, his house! You two were friends before you left. How could you disrespect him like this? How do you call yourself a man when all you are is a coward?"

She stopped again, looking at the person she had once loved. Yes, past tense. She knew she no longer held any affection for him. She couldn't. He had betrayed her in the most terrible way. But worse than that, he had irreparably hurt the man she loved.

With this new freedom, she decided to tell him exactly how she felt, regardless of his feelings.

"Honestly, Jimmy," she began slowly. "The silver lining in all this is that it has opened my eyes to what Sandy has been trying to tell me all these years and I've never been happier that I didn't marry you."

She let her words sink in. "Now, we are going to go on about our lives like nothing is wrong. But we are not friends and we won't ever be again." With that, she left.

A few minutes after Kirsten, Jimmy walked into the living room, grateful to catch Julie at her purse in the foyer.

"I think it's time to go," he said, trying to sound casual. "I've got that interview later."

After Jimmy and Julie had gone, Kirsten returned to the kitchen and busied herself with the dishes. She turned the faucet on and grabbed a sponge as she heard the quiet footsteps of her husband.

"I'll do those, sweetie."

"I'd like to," Kirsten said softly. Sandy relented and gazed at her for a second. In that simple moment, he felt a rush of overwhelming love for this woman. He reached down and shut the dishwasher. Kirsten began to protest before she noticed him grab a dish towel and stand beside her.

"Together?" he asked. She smiled up at him, before handing him a dish.

As they continued, Kirsten felt the moment ruin. She thought back to the visit. Jimmy said Sandy couldn't help him because he did not know where the bandages were. And because he was doing the dishes.

Kirsten silently cursed at the spineless liar. However, her thoughts turned back on herself and the lies she was guilty of.

_It's to protect Sandy_, she justified.

She looked over at her husband, who was busy studying a plate. He glanced over at her with his deep blue eyes and offered her a small smile. The look solidified her decision. He couldn't know.

The next day, after much persuading, Sandy returned to work. He was not far into his day when Detective Gray knocked on his door.

"Come in," Sandy welcomed him.

"I'm sorry I missed your call. Three times."

"Sorry," Sandy admitted. Gray noticed he seemed more laid back today. He was not sure if that was time working or the fact that Kirsten was not here. Either way, it was welcomed.

"Well, Kirsten said you were here. She sounded good."

Sandy shrugged. "She was bred in Newport. You can't always believe what you hear. Not that she would lie to you, I don't mean that. But she's been trained to hide her emotions."

"So, how is she really? Is she coping at all? You know we have grief counselors-"

"That's not really Kirsten's thing."

"Well, if it's yours-"

"It's not," Sandy cut him off before realizing that he was about to ostracize his ally. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be rude."

"No, I was."

"No, Detective. You were trying to help. I appreciate it and so does Kirsten." Gray nodded, signaling no hard feelings. "So, any news?"

"Yes, actually. Another reason I wanted to see you in person. It's not much but we did get results on the blood samples. They match your wife and Mr. Cooper. Which should strike out any type of blood transfer scenario. As for the hair and fluids, there were no hits on our local database so we are currently testing them against the California database, which unfortunately is quite vast."

Sandy nodded, absorbing the information.

"We've interviewed the bartender and local business workers but nothing solid has come up. I wish I had more to tell you but that's really all there is now."

"I appreciate it. Just hearing that some type of progress is being made is good."

Sandy continued on with work, even staying through lunch. Kirsten spoke with him on the phone and insisted that she was fine. She said Julie was coming over which helped placate him, knowing that she wouldn't be all alone.

Finally, work was over. Sandy brought Thai home for dinner. Kirsten was in the bedroom and, after dropping the food off in the kitchen, Sandy joined her. He was eager to see her and know she was safe.

Despite her constant reassurances, Sandy was still a nervous wreck. However, he had known that she was ready for a return to normal, which meant being apart from one another.

Seeing her on their bed, Sandy found it difficult to resist pulling her tightly into his arms. Instead, he sat down beside her and gently placed an arm around her, squeezing her softly.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi. How was work?"

"It was fine. I was thinking about you all day but nothing new about that," he teased, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She smiled at the gesture.

They sat for a few moments in silence before Kirsten spoke.

"I went to the doctor while you were at work."

Before Sandy could begin his inquisition, she continued.

"Ever since… that night, I have had dreams, nightmares, really, that I was pregnant. I've been so afraid…" she paused. "They gave me that medicine and everything but still… I've missed my period and I've been so nauseated."

She paused but quickly realized Sandy wasn't breathing.

"But I'm not!" She assured him. "The doctor says it's just stress about all that's happened. My body's out of whack. So she refilled my prescription and everything's fine. I'm not pregnant," she repeated, a touch of sadness in her voice.

Sandy was too smart to say it but he was dumbfounded by his wife's unhappiness. If anything, this should be cause for celebration.

"I was terrified… at first. But then I thought maybe… maybe it might be yours." She said, softly. "Not that I've been wanting a baby but I couldn't help getting a little excited at the thought of us running after a little one."

Sandy couldn't resist smiling a bit.

"But this is for the best. I don't think we could have handled nine months of wondering."

"I'm sorry, Kirsten. I'm sorry you had to do that alone. You should have told me."

"Sandy, I couldn't. I couldn't let you worry if it was for nothing, which thankfully, it was."

Sandy kept looking down at his hands.

"There's something else she mentioned. She recommended seeing a therapist. We did personal sessions in rehab and after I finally started participating, they really did help."

"Well, then that sounds good for you," Sandy stated supportively, thinking about his conversation with Detective Gray.

"No, Sandy. Not for me. For you. Or for both of us."

Sandy wasn't looking at her anymore and she could tell he was shutting down.

"Sandy, I can't do this anymore. If you don't want to talk to me, you need to talk to someone else," she pressed.

"It's not that I don't want to," he started quietly. "It's that I can't. I'm afraid of what I'll say… I don't want you to have to see that side of me."

"Sandy. Sometimes I think you forget how well we know each other. I know how this is affecting you. I just want to forget it all ever happened. Can't you just try to forget?" She asked, though she knew the answer already.

"I can't." Sandy whispered. "I can't think about anything else. I'm so sorry, Kirsten." His voice began to break. "I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

"Baby," she moved closer to him and touched his hands. "You have to stop feeling all this guilt."

"I promised to protect you and I didn't."

"How could you have saved me? You were hours away. This is not your fault."

"I shouldn't have gone."

"Sandy, please! Stop this! Quit blaming yourself for someone else's actions. It's breaking my heart to see you like this." She took his hand and held the back of it to her chest.

Sandy looked into the concerned eyes of his wife. For a while, they sat silently and stared into one another's eyes.

Slowly, Sandy moved his other hand. He lifted Kirsten's hand to his own chest and held it over his own heart.

A small smile graced Kirsten's face and she said exactly what was on her mind.

"I love you."

She leaned into him, their foreheads touching. Sandy looked into the depths of his wife's beautiful blue eyes.

"I love you, too," he breathed before touching his lips softly to hers. He then released her hand, which she left on his chest. He cupped her face gently and moved his lips toward the bruise near her eye. Though it was hidden from the world with makeup, Sandy could still see it with ease. Tenderly, he kissed the purple skin. Kirsten closed her eyes peacefully, feeling the healing power in his gesture.

He pulled away slightly, looking at her with all of the love in his heart.

"Okay," he whispered finally. "I'll go."

Before she could speak, Sandy enveloped her in his arms and held her tightly to him. She relished in the feeling, closing her eyes and gripping his shirt.

They remained in that position until their stomachs protested and they had to reheat the Thai food.

It felt like progress was being made. In the morning, Kirsten smiled at the realization that she had slept through the entire night. She had not been awakened by the fact that she was the only one in bed. In fact, Sandy still had his arms around her, the same way he had when they had fallen asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Sandy was still trying to believe he was attending couples therapy as he parked at the doctor's center of the hospital.

"Before we go in here," Kirsten started. "I want to encourage you to be open-minded-"

"Wow, what did they do to you in rehab?" Sandy teased her.

Kirsten smiled sweetly at him as she grabbed his hand. "_And_," she emphasized, wanting him to understand her seriousness. "I want to thank you for doing this. I know you're mainly doing it for me but, just remember, I am doing it for you."

Sandy squeezed her hand. "I'd do anything for you."

"I know."

On the second floor, Kirsten led Sandy toward room 212 and knocked on the door. The receptionist could be seen in the glass of the door and motioned for them to enter.

"You can go on in," she stated politely, motioning to a door to the left.

They entered the smaller room and immediately, Sandy noticed the bookshelves. The books were in no obvious order, leading him to believe they were actually used and not just for show. On the desk, a name plaque read 'Dr. Elizabeth Murray'. The brunette behind the desk stood immediately and extended her hand. Sandy noticed that she was tall and a bit heavier than most women he saw in Newport. Her full face and chestnut brown eyes were welcoming. Sandy couldn't help but wonder if that was a tactic to get a patient to bear his soul.

"Good morning, Kirsten," Dr. Murray smiled.

Kirsten shook the doctor's hand and turned toward Sandy.

"Sandy, this is Dr. Murray. Dr. Murray, this is my husband, Sandy."

"Hi, Sandy. It's nice to meet you."

"You too, Doctor," he said politely as he shook her hand.

"Please. Call me Elizabeth."

Sandy and Kirsten sat on the couch across from the desk; their hands reconnecting, securely.

"Would you like something to drink before we get started? Coffee, water, soda?"

Kirsten looked toward Sandy before answering for both of them. "No, thank you."

"Ok. Well, to start, a few things about myself. I am originally from Portland, Oregon but I moved to California to attend college at Berkeley."

Sandy noticed not one but two framed degrees hanging on the wall. Mentally, he smirked at Kirsten. She had really pulled all the stops when she picked this doctor. She knew her husband could hardly resist anything to do with his beloved Berkeley.

"I doubled majored in psychology and communications before eventually getting my doctorate in psychology." The doctor paused once again. Her tone was not as bubbly as Sandy had expected when he had seen her. "So, you could say, I'm overqualified to be doing therapy sessions. In fact, I'm usually involved in studies and writing for journals about my research.

"All that is to say, you have one persuasive wife, Mr. Cohen. So, for all the skepticism you have about this, she's gone through a lot to set this up for the two of you."

Sandy definitely had not expected this. Not many people could leave him feeling guilty, especially within minutes of meeting him; however, the doctor definitely had a point. If Kirsten had done so much, the least he could do was be receptive and participate, as hard as that would be.

"Okay. We'll begin with Kirsten. Just tell us what your goals are for these sessions."

"Sandy and I normally don't have trouble communicating but lately… since the incident… we haven't been able to." Kirsten paused, feeling herself become emotional. "I hate to see him hurt like this and I know it's partly because he's holding everything in. I think if he has someone impartial to talk to, then he could really start to heal." She took a deep breath. "We both could."

"Good. Sandy, what do you hope to get from this?"

"Um, I'm not exactly sure. I feel like I should be honest and say I can't really see this 'fixing' me. But Kirsten wants me to try and, like you said, she went through a lot to get you, Doctor."

Doctor Murray looked at the gentleman in front of her, evaluating him. Finally, she asked, "Sandy, what are you afraid of?" He looked up at the doctor. When he did not answer, she decided to explain further. "Why do you not want to talk to me? What harm do you think it would do to talk to me, someone who is completely unbiased?"

Sandy took a deep breath. "I don't really-" He stopped short, trying to think about his words. "The only person I am completely open with is Kirsten. And even then, there are things, things from my past especially, that I can't tell her. I just don't feel comfortable bearing my soul to anyone but her. So if I can't talk to her about this, then I guess I can't really talk to anyone."

Kirsten silently listened to her husband speak. She was pleased but saddened by his progress. Sandy's silence about his abusive childhood was something she had long since given up on. Early in their relationship, once it had started becoming obvious they were soul mates, Kirsten had tried to get Sandy to talk about his past and what his father had done. But he had finally convinced her that she was better off not knowing and she stopped pressing him on the subject.

For him to now acknowledge it showed Kirsten how hard he was trying to be cooperative and she loved him for it.

"Why don't you talk to her about your past?"

"Well, because it's no one's burden but mine. She doesn't need to know everything I've ever witnessed or had done to me. Her knowing won't fix it and… I don't want her to start looking at me as if I'm damaged or something. My past shapes me but it doesn't define me so why bring it up?"

"Obviously I don't know the exact situation, but let me ask you: if Kirsten had experienced the same thing as a child, would you want her to talk to you about it?" She took his silence as a yes. "Why is there a difference?"

Sandy shrugged a little as he thought. "Because." He was still struggling with an answer. He looked over to his wife. "Kirsten," he paused, still unsure. She turned toward him, thinking he was calling her name, and they looked into one another's eyes. There Sandy found his answer. "Kirsten is the best thing I've found in this world. She's not perfect but she's perfect to me. All I've ever wanted is to protect her and that includes protecting her from my past. I like that she sees me as her Superman. If she knew all those things from my past, she wouldn't look at me that way."

"That's not true," Kirsten whispered, her heart beating fast. Just as she felt they were making progress, Sandy broke their connection, closing his eyes and turning away.

"It should be. I don't deserve to have you see me like that anymore. Not after…" He couldn't bear to say it.

Dr. Murray spoke up. "I'm glad we've gotten here without any prompting. We need to discuss the event in some way or another. Whether it be your feelings towards it or what actually happened." She stopped, letting them decide how to proceed.

There were several minutes of silence; neither party knowing how to start. Sandy felt like he had said enough.

"I really just wish we could accept that it happened, forget about it, and move on. But I don't think that'll happen." Kirsten stopped, hoping her words would encourage Sandy. When they didn't, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Essentially, she was going to tattle, give the doctor something to work with. "Sandy can't or won't do that. Sometimes he has something in front of him that he's 'working' on, like a crossword or something, but he doesn't make progress or even move much for five minutes, and I know that he is thinking about it."

"How often does that happen?"

"Several times throughout the day."

"What do your thoughts normally consist of?" Sandy didn't move. "Do you think about the act?" Still nothing. "I know you are a lawyer and you know the system. Do you question what the police are doing to find him? Do you wonder what the man looks like? If you've passed him in the grocery store getting a jug of milk?"

At the last questions, Sandy looked up at the doctor, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark. She took note of his expression and knew that at some point, a one-on-one session would be required. This man was holding more in than his wife knew. Doctor Murray looked over to Kirsten, who was looking at her husband with sad but understanding eyes. Murray questioned herself. Maybe Kirsten did know how much he was holding in.

Kirsten ran her hand soothingly down Sandy's back. "Baby, please."

He acknowledged her with a small tilt of his head, though his eyes did not meet hers. Doctor Murray noted the deep sadness in his eyes.

Sandy stayed silent for a few more moments before finally speaking. "I'm constantly thinking about how different it would have been if I had been there. What I could have done."

Kirsten sighed with some relief as she finally learned what Sandy's main thoughts had been over the past week.

With her hand still supportive on his back, she spoke softly, wanting him to understand. "Sandy, we both know what would have happened if you had been there. You would have stopped him and we would be talking with a piece of glass between us right now."

"I'd rather rot forever than have you suffer like this," he growled. Kirsten could hear in his voice that he was struggling to keep back his tears.

"I feel the exact same way about you, Sandy. Don't you understand that?"

Finally, he looked at his wife, allowing the doctor to see the tears in his eyes. "No," he said gently, not wanting to hurt her.

Kirsten turned away from him. She was saddened as she began to doubt any progress would be made today. The doctor was about to step in again but Kirsten cut her off, her voice filled with emotion.

"Why do you think you love me more than I love you? Why does it have to be some sort of competition?" Tears fell down her cheeks.

"Because, Kirsten. You can't love me as much as I love you. I'm not worthy of that much love. But you-" he choked on his words. "You're wonderful and kind and-"

"Sandy, we both know I'm not a saint. This past year alone I put you and our boys through hell. I made you move to a town you hate full of insufferable people who hate you." She knew her voice sounded almost hysterical and she paused to breathe. "I've only given you a handful of reasons to love me. Sometimes I'm not sure why you bother." Her head fell, unable to look him in the eye.

"Hey," he cupped her face in his hands. "Don't you ever talk like that. Kirsten, you are my world. Without you…" he paused, trying to find the right words for such an unimaginable pain. "Well, I'd need a hell of a lot more than a therapist." He tried to joke and was relieved when Kirsten smiled. He smirked back before looking at her seriously. "You are my life." Without care that there was a stranger watching them, he leaned in and kissed Kirsten tenderly with all the love he had. As they pulled away, they couldn't help the smiles on their faces.

"Well," Doctor Murray's voice brought the couple back to the present. "This seems like a good place to leave it for now. You both did very well. I won't say anyone is 'cured', per say, but very good progress. Sandy, if you feel comfortable, I'd like for you to return solo sometime this week. Or should I say, _Kirsten_ _and_ I would like for you to come back in. That's how we get you to do things, isn't it?"

Kirsten laughed and Sandy smirked. "That's normally how it works, Doc," he admitted, ducking his head.

They left, scheduling Sandy to return in two days. He put his arm around Kirsten as they exited the hospital.

"Want to grab some lunch?"

"Sure," she smiled up at him. They drove to the diner, neither wanting to go anywhere that would require them to keep up pretenses. They sat down across from one another and put in their order before beginning to talk.

"So what did you really think?"

"It was okay." He answered honestly. "I felt a little bit guilty, though." He began picking at his fingernails, a nervous habit he had when they had first started dating. Kirsten hadn't seen him do it in years and she was saddened once again by what this event was doing to her husband. "You did a lot to get her and you did it for me. And I know it's not fair to you for me to be this way. So I'm going to try."

Kirsten grabbed his hands to stop his nervous fiddling and force him to look at her.

"That means the world to me. I know you, Sandy. I know how hard this is for you. I love you for doing this for me." She grinned at him as he smiled. "I love you," she repeated firmly.

"I love you, too," he said, quietly. They looked at one another for a moment before Sandy untangled their hands and stood up. Kirsten looked a bit confused.

He slid into the booth beside her and put his arm around her, hugging her to him. "I want to be next to you."

Kirsten smiled up at him before snuggling into him a bit. He ran his hand up her arm twice before squeezing her to him again.

"We're gonna be okay," he whispered in her ear.

She closed her eyes, knowing his words were true. It wasn't her marriage she was worried about; it was her husband.

"I know. But are _you_ going to be okay?" She asked, pulling her head away and opening her eyes to look at him. The solemn look she was becoming familiar with came back to Sandy's face. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye for a moment but remained silent.

As he looked back up toward the kitchen, he noticed the waiter approaching. "Here comes our food," he said, ignoring her question. Sadly, Kirsten tried to let it go, not wanting one unanswered question to ruin the progress they had made.

That night, as they lay down in bed, Sandy gently put his arm around Kirsten.

"I was thinking about going surfing in the morning," he mentioned.

"I think that would be great," Kirsten said enthusiastically.

"Really? I don't think I've heard that from you… ever!" He teased.

She giggled. "Well, it's time for you to do something for you, Sandy." She added sincerely before rolling over to face him. One of her hands wiggled its way into Sandy's shirt and touched his stomach. "Plus, you've really got to do something about this beer belly." Her eyes watched the fabric of his t-shirt move with her hand and she giggled as her fingers traced the muscular lines of his abdomen.

Sandy smiled with her, enjoying her touch. His hand rested naturally on her waist as he watched her face, mesmerized by the shine of her eyes in the moonlight. Suddenly, her hand stopped over his chest and she looked up at him. Little by little, she moved toward him until her lips covered his. Her hand tightened and fingernails lightly scratched his skin. His hand moved to her lower back and held her securely.

They broke apart but their foreheads still rested together.

With their eyes still closed, Kirsten whispered into the darkness, "I love you." To which, Sandy responded in kind.

Kirsten's hand stayed under the fabric of his shirt and moved to his back. She pressed her head to Sandy's chest, her ear to where his heart was beating. Once she found her spot, her grip on him tightened, holding him to her. Sandy moved his arms to hold her more firmly, wanting her to sleep soundly knowing that she was safe.

The next morning, when Sandy awoke for his morning surf, he looked down at his wife and found her in practically the same position she had gone to sleep. He moved meticulously, trying his best not to disturb her. Just as he was about slide out of the covers, Kirsten's hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt, her face scrunched up in an adorable frustrated manner. Sandy sighed inwardly and began to snuggle back into the bed.

Kirsten opened her eyes halfway to look at Sandy. "Are you going surfing?"

"It's okay. I can go later."

"Go. Have fun." She said and tried her best to smile at him, though it was difficult given how early it was. "Surf's best in the morning."

Sandy smiled down at this woman he loved more than anything. "Go back to sleep," he said, as he kissed her forehead.

"Mmhm," Kirsten mumbled as she buried her nose in his pillow and took a deep breath.

Sandy was still smiling as he changed into his gear. He kissed a sleeping Kirsten one more time before heading out to the beach. As he walked on the sand, he breathed the salty air in deep, almost as if it would literally clean his brain if he inhaled enough of it. He truly wanted to clear his mind, if only for a moment. Surfing usually did the trick but Sandy wasn't sure it would be enough to handle all that he had on his mind.

He paddled out, enjoying the taste of the ocean on his lips. The waves were starting to take shape and Sandy had a feeling it was going to be a good day. He let the first wave pass him by but he was determined to catch the second one.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins. His arms pulled him over the water, working to be ahead of the tide. After that, it was all autopilot, no thinking required. He rode wave after wave, letting his body do what it was trained to. He was amazed at how energized he felt in the water. He hadn't expected to last this long, much less be ready for more.

After several hours of riding waves, Sandy walked out of the ocean and planted his board in the sand. He sat down beside it and looked over the ocean, thankful for his escape. He knew it wouldn't last long so he was trying to appreciate it while he could. It wasn't long before the thought of Kirsten drew him back home.

They enjoyed a nice breakfast before Sandy went into the office and tried to do some work. He was pleased to find that he was able to concentrate on his job better than before. He wanted to believe it had more to do with surfing than the doctor.

Better yet, he wanted to believe it had to do with Kirsten. Last night, he had felt a bit of their intimacy return. He could still feel her warm hand on his chest, his heart beating underneath it. Though he knew they were still a long way from any sexual intimacy, this was a step toward getting their full connection back.

The next day, after another early morning surf session, Sandy and Kirsten headed to his one-on-one therapy with Doctor Murray.

"I'll be right out here," Kirsten said to him as she let go of his hand.

"I'll be okay, Kirsten," Sandy said, amused at her concern.

"I know," she smiled, trying to calm herself. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous, especially when Sandy so obviously wasn't. It was like they were switching roles. As she thought about it, Kirsten supposed she was probably just jealous Sandy might say something she would never hear.

"Thank you for returning, Sandy," Doctor Murray immediately welcomed him as he walked in her office.

"Of course. How's the research coming?"

Doctor Murray looked up from the paragraph she was highlighting to judge whether or not Sandy was sincere. When she saw he wasn't mocking her, she merely nodded.

"It's coming along." She shut the book and placed it on the shelf. "How about you? How are you feeling?"

"Better actually. The past couple of days…" He was hesitant on how to explain them. "They've been good. For me and, I believe, for Kirsten as well."

"What has been different?"

"Well, I haven't thought about _it_ that much. I've been focused on being with her and enjoying our time together. I also returned to surfing yesterday, which normally helps me clear my head."

"Seems like it helped even with something of this magnitude."

"I think it did."

"So you've had a lot of 'sessions' this week, huh?" She teased, causing Sandy smirked. "Would you consider surfing therapy?"

Sandy answered, "I guess so. I've never thought about it in so many words but yeah. When life gets difficult, it's one of the things that helps."

"Well, that's good. Why did you just now turn to it?"

"I couldn't leave Kirsten before. I mean, I could have, but I didn't feel comfortable."

"And now?"

"I still don't like it but my wife's always been very independent. I can't keep her locked inside forever; she doesn't want that. So I go to work and she goes places with her friend sometimes."

"She doesn't go surfing with you?"

Sandy laughed. "Oh, no, not Kirsten. She hates the ocean. Always has."

"Even walking beside it or looking at it? She's involved you in this kind of therapy. You could involve her in your kind of therapy."

He thought about the doctor's suggestion and had to admit that it had merit.

"Sandy, at our last joint session, Kirsten expressed that she would rather herself experience harm than you. You rejected that. Can you explain why you feel that way?"

He thought about his answer.

Doctor Murray added. "You also said that you aren't worthy of her love."

"I've made a lot of mistakes. She deserves a better man-"

"Sandy, this goes against Therapy 101 but let me stop you right there. I've spoken to Kirsten off the record. In fact, it was when she was trying to convince me to do sessions with you two. Your wife said things to me about you that I've heard you say about her. It's clear that you two are deeply in love with one another. You say she deserves a better man, but I'm telling you that there's no other person she'd rather be with."

She paused.

"Let's return to the question. Why do you feel like she shouldn't want to keep you safe?"

Sandy let all of the doctor's words set in and he tried to think of an answer. "It's just… that's my wife. I'm her husband. She shouldn't have to protect me."

"Just because you don't need it, that doesn't mean she can't feel desire to protect you."

There was a pause and Sandy thought about his relationship with Kirsten and their past. The therapist saw a smirk play at the edge of his mouth.

"Will you tell me what that's about?"

"Oh. Um, now that I think about it, Kirsten has been protecting me from her father for years. Not physically, of course. But he's never liked me." Sandy continued to grin at the thought of his father-in-law. "She protects me from Newpsies and all the things they said when we were first dating. And the things they probably still say."

"She protects your heart," the doctor suggested.

Sandy thought over her words for a moment. "Yeah. She does," he said with a smile.

Doctor Murray looked at Sandy and made a decision. "Well, Sandy, I started today's session all wrong, though perhaps it's for the best."

He looked at her confused.

"I wanted to delve into more darker details but I think maybe it's better this way. We're cutting today short. You won't be charged the full hour, of course." Sandy shrugged and put up his hand, letting her know that wasn't a concern. "Today it's better for us to leave on a high note. So unless there is something else you wanted to discuss." Sandy didn't say anything. "I figured as much. You are free to go. I'll see you and Kirsten next week."

"Thank you, Doctor."

To Kirsten's surprise, Sandy came out of Dr. Murray's office after only twenty minutes.

"What's wrong?" She asked, immediately concerned and wondering if she needed to go apologize to Doctor Murray.

"Nothing."

It was then Kirsten noticed that Sandy was actually smiling.

"So it went well?"

"It did."

"Great," she smiled back at him.

Sandy made it all the way to the car before his excitement got the best of him. As Kirsten waited for Sandy to open the door, he moved closer to her.

"Hey," he said softly. "I wanted to talk to you. I kind of had a revelation today."

While Kirsten was more than excited to hear it, she couldn't ignore the fact that she was wedged between the car and Sandy.

"Can we talk in the car?" Her tone struck something within Sandy.

"Yeah, sure. Are you okay?"

"I just…" she pushed herself away from the car, feeling nauseated just from leaning against it. "Parking lots still kind of… I don't know. They make me nervous, I guess."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Of course. Yeah, here," he opened her door for her.

He was still apologizing when he got in the car. "I'm so sorry. That was stupid. I should have-"

"It's okay, Sandy." She said, grabbing his hand. "Please. Tell me what happened."

"Well," Sandy started before turning and locking the doors.

"Thank you," Kirsten sighed.

"We were talking about the other day when I said that I didn't understand you wanting to protect me. She helped me realize that you've been protecting me all along. From your dad, from the Newpsies."

Kirsten smiled sweetly at her husband.

"You protect my heart and you always have. I love you for that." His hand reached up and stroked her hair gently. "I'm going to kiss you."

Kirsten chuckled. "You'd better."

Sandy smiled at her and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers before sealing them together tightly. Kirsten's hands moved to Sandy's head and held him steady against her. When they broke apart, they were happy to be met with each other's smiles.

They remained close and Sandy whispered, "I finally think I'm gonna be okay."

Kirsten's heart leapt in her chest and she smiled even wider. "Good," she said, hardly able to keep her voice steady. She stole his words. "You're my life, you know?" Her hand found its way over his heart again.

Sandy grabbed a hold of her hand and looked deep into her eyes, wanting her to see the honesty there. "I _do_ know."


	5. Chapter 5

Sandy decided to take Doctor Murray's advice about including Kirsten in his 'therapy'.

"I was thinking you might like to join me when I go surfing tomorrow. We could take a blanket and eat lunch on the beach."

"Sure."

"I won't ask you to get in the water," he teased.

She smiled sweetly. "Thank you."

The next day, they walked side by side, enjoying the sand between their toes. Sandy carried his surfboard and the cooler while Kirsten toted a beach bag.

"You sure you don't need any help carrying the cooler?" Kirsten offered.

"Nah, baby. I've got it," Sandy smiled at her. When he looked away, Kirsten took a moment to glance at his strong arms and then thought about the muscular abdomen he was hiding under his shirt. Her sudden desire surprised her and she turned her eyes back to the beach.

"Here we are," Sandy said softly, putting the cooler down and planting the board in the sand. Together, he and Kirsten spread the blanket and he grabbed two waters from the cooler for them. Sandy looked over the beach and saw one other couple and two families enjoying the beach.

"Sandy?" Kirsten said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Go surf," she said softly.

To prove she meant it, Kirsten made herself comfortable on the blanket. Sandy looked at his wife and smiled for, what felt like, the hundredth time. In her shorts and t-shirt, she was gorgeous to Sandy. He acted like he didn't see Kirsten look over at him when he pulled his shirt off. Her glance alone caused his heart to race. He turned, pulled his board out of the sand, and headed toward the water.

Kirsten enjoyed watching Sandy surf, marveling at how he moved over the waves. She thought about how opposite they were and how much she admired him.

When he came in from the ocean, Kirsten met him with a towel. She smiled. "You looked great out there!" she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks," he said with a bashful smile.

"Why, Sandy Cohen. Are you blushing?" She teased. "Were you trying to impress me?"

"Always," he said softly.

"Well, you did," she said, leaning in to give him another kiss. "You hungry?"

"I am," he said, putting his arm around her as they walked to the blanket.

After their sandwiches, Sandy retrieved the grapes from the cooler and they enjoyed the fruit, silently looking toward the ocean. However, compared to the strained silences that were becoming normal, this one was comfortable and familiar.

Sandy was lounging on the blanket, propped up on one elbow, while Kirsten sat upright a few inches behind him. Her gaze shifted from the waves to her husband. Since they had met, Sandy had always been muscular but now his arms and shoulders were larger than Kirsten could remember them ever being. A vision of Sandy beating up the punching bag flashed in her mind.

Feeling her eyes on him, Sandy looked up at his wife and gave her a smile. He looked down at her cute sand-covered toes.

"Thanks for coming with me today," he said as he grabbed her foot and gently squeezed it. Kirsten smiled.

"It's been fun, watching you in your natural habitat," she giggled and ran a hair through his damp hair. He chuckled and looked back up at her. Kirsten ran her hand through his hair once more before cupping his face gently. Sandy's eyes soften and his heart jumped at her touch. He barely breathed as she slowly leaned in and kissed him.

With their faces still close, Kirsten whispered, "Come here." She led his head toward her lap and began running her fingers through his hair, knowing how much he loved it.

Comfortable in her arms and relaxed by her fingers massaging his scalp, Sandy closed his eyes and began to doze. Kirsten smiled down at the man she loved before gazing toward the water.

Sandy didn't know how much time had passed when he realized he had been asleep. Kirsten was still playing with his hair. Slowly, he sat up and stretched a bit.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," he apologized softly.

Kirsten smiled at him.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

They gathered their things and walked back to the house.

After settling, Kirsten decided to lay down for a nap and Sandy sat up in bed next to her, reading over papers for the Newport Group.

Kirsten had been sleeping for about an hour when she began to hold her pillow tighter. Her face scrunched as the nightmare plagued her subconscious.

_It was always dark, even darker than it had been that night._

_In these dreams, _he_ always surrounds her like thick air, making it hard to breathe. Even as she sees _him_ move to Jimmy, she's stuck to her spot, _his_ power holding her still. She knows there is no escape._

_She has had this nightmare before and it's always the same. _

He_ approaches suddenly. Despite knowing what will happen, it scares her every time. Jimmy falls. _He_ is on her and she can only see _his_ face as _he_ works. _He_ says something to Jimmy. Jimmy speaks back. But she doesn't know what either of them says. _He_ comes back and starts again. She just wishes it would end. Can't _he_ just focus and get it over with?_

_She's sick of this. When _he_ hovers over Jimmy again, Kirsten acts. She sits up and notices immediately that their muffled conversation sounds a bit clearer. Despite the back seat extending as she moves, the voices steadily become easier to understand._

_Closer and closer…_

_Until finally…_

_She can hear perfectly. _

_As Jimmy leans against a car's tire, _he_ hovers with an arm around Jimmy's shoulder. "So you must be…" _He_ looks up at Kirsten, haunting her with _his_ cold eyes. "Mr. Cooper."_

His_ words are venom. Kirsten's heart stops and her blood runs cold, completely unaware that she has stopped breathing._

_Jimmy shakes his head back and forth with his eyes closed, muttering "I'm sorry. So sorry."_

_Kirsten barely hears the apology, having already heard them enough to last her a lifetime. Instead, _his_ voice echoes in her head._

"_Mr. Cooper."_

She woke suddenly, still feeling cold. Her heart raced, making up for the time it had stopped. Oblivious to Sandy sitting beside her, she sat up straight in bed. Her eyes focused on an empty space as realization dawned on her.

"Kirsten," his soft voice broke through the silence. "Baby, what is it?"

"I must have blocked it out," she murmured mostly to herself. "How could I have blocked that out?"

"Sometimes that happens, sweetie. What do you remember?"

"He knew him. He knew Jimmy. He called him 'Mr. Cooper'."

"He knew Jimmy. But did Jimmy know him?"

"I don't know. He called him 'Mr. Cooper' and said it again when he told him to shut up."

"Shut up? Why would he tell him that?"

Kirsten finally looked up at her husband. The weight in her stomach becoming heavier. "I- He must have- groaned or something," she lied poorly.

"Kirsten? You said Jimmy was knocked out. He was drunk. He hit his head and he passed out." Sandy's heart raced as his wife refused to look at him. He knew there was something she was hiding. "Did Jimmy do this to you?" He asked weakly, not wanting to even think it.

Immediately, Kirsten looked at Sandy. "No, he didn't do that." Her tone turned bitter. "He didn't do anything."

"What happened?"Sandy asked firmly. He'd had enough of Kirsten's cryptic answers. "What else have you been hiding from me?"

"Sandy, I honestly didn't remember that he knew Jimmy." Sandy waited silently for her to continue. "But I did lie to you. Jimmy didn't pass out; he was awake." She choked on her tears. "He was awake the whole time."

Sandy looked away from Kirsten and slowly moved away from the bed. He stood in front of their glass doors. He thought of his wife, terrified in the backseat. Being taken advantage of. While her high school sweetheart, the boy who she was 'supposed' to marry, the man who was 'better' than Sandy would ever be, Jimmy did nothing! Sandy looked past the infinity pool toward the ocean and considered drowning Jimmy in it.

"He just sat there?" Sandy asked, his voice breaking with despair for his wife. He looked at Kirsten again. She met his eyes and nodded sadly. Tears ran uncontrollably down her face as she returned to that night. Sandy felt his heart break for the millionth time.

"Kirsten," he paused, trying to talk himself out of the next question. He didn't want her to suffer any longer but he had to know. "Why did he tell him to shut up? What did Jimmy say?"

She swallowed thickly. "'I'm sorry.' He kept saying, 'I'm sorry.'"

Sandy looked away again. He thought about when Jimmy had been over to the house, acting as if nothing was wrong. He had walked right up to Sandy and started talking, undoubtedly confident about his safety knowing that Kirsten was lying to her husband. Sandy gritted his teeth.

"Why did you protect him?"

"I was protecting you. I don't even care about Jimmy anymore. How could I?" Kirsten asked. "But I knew if I told you..."

Kirsten let her voice trail off since they both knew what she was referring to.

"But you did tell the police, right?" When she didn't answer, he continued. "Kirsten, he saw your attacker. You might not have remembered that he knew Jimmy but Jimmy probably does! He should have told the police. God, the bastard might be caught by now if you..." He paused, not wanting to be as mad at her as he was.

"If I had sent you on a murder mission?"

"Damn it, Kirsten! They need all the information! And obviously, Jimmy didn't mention any of this either. They might've already found the guy if they knew everything." Sandy's blood continued to boil.

"I did it to protect you-"

"I don't give a shit what happens to me!"

"Well, somebody has to! Sandy, if I had told you, you would have-"

He paused in his pacing to interrupt her. "I know what I would have done, Kirsten."

"So, you want to kill him. You want to go to jail. You want to leave me alone for God knows how long."

"And you want me to do nothing. And allow Jimmy to get away with absolutely everything. I can't believe you are still protecting him, even after all this."

"I just told you: I have done everything to protect you!"

"In that case, I suppose you're happy I wasn't there to stop him. You'd rather be hurt than me go to jail, is that it?"

"Sandy! Do you even hear yourself?" Kirsten looked at her husband, wondering who he had become. "That night, in that moment, I would have done anything for you to be there and I would have gladly let you kill the bastard and beat the shit out of Jimmy. If I had been able to…" She paused, her emotions choking her. "I would have done it myself."

Sandy watched Kirsten, knowing how hard it was for her to admit that.

"I wished for you a hundred times that night." She swallowed thickly. "But it's over now. And any action you take against Jimmy won't change what happened. I'm not in danger anymore; defense of others won't work. Now, it's vengeance-"

"I know that, Kirsten. I'm a lawyer," he snapped again. He thought he was calming down as he listened to his wife but his anger was still burning. He began to pace again. Thoughts and realizations continued to make his blood boil.

Kirsten had never seen Sandy this way. Her normally calm and level-headed husband was gone. In his place, she saw a black-haired version of Ryan during his first year in Newport. He was angry and untrusting. Now, he didn't even trust her.

Kirsten thought of the progress they had made since that night. The therapy had helped significantly but she saw all of it melt away now. Her heart ached for her husband as she began to think he would never be able to overcome this.

Suddenly, he stopped pacing and sat on the bench at the foot of their bed. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Kirsten watched his back move with every breath.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Kirsten pleaded, "Please don't be mad at me."

Sandy didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was level but full of anger. "Kirsten, I'm mad at everyone. I am so pissed off I might combust!" He sprang up from his seat and moved toward the door before facing Kirsten. All that he had been holding in broke through and he couldn't stop himself. "Why must you protect that pathetic little shit?! Why haven't the police found the prick that did all of this? Why isn't your father here to set his pack of goons out to fix this? Jesus Christ!"

He ran his hands through his hair and he had to stop himself from ripping it out. He had too much pent up energy and didn't know what to do with it. He wanted to hit somebody until they hurt as badly as he did. He wanted to set fire to something or drive a car off of a cliff. Anything!

Part of him wanted to tell Kirsten. "I just… I can't do this." But the other part won. He grabbed his keys.

"Sandy, where are you going?!" Kirsten asked, terrified of the answer.

"I don't know. I just can't be here right now."

Sandy slammed the door to the rental car when he got in. He didn't know where he was going but he knew he couldn't sit still in that house anymore.

He drove out of the driveway and through the gates of the community. He made it about a mile down the road before he stopped and pulled over. As mad as he was, he couldn't make himself go very far from Kirsten. He knew the community was gated and had security but still...

Sandy sat in the car, seething with anger, racked with grief. What was he going to do?

He picked up his cell phone and selected a contact to call.

The phone rang twice before it was answered.

"Hello?"

"Jimmy," Sandy stated, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Hey, Sandy. Is everything okay? How's Kirsten?" It wasn't often that Sandy called Jimmy.

Sandy gritted his teeth, wanting to lay into Jimmy over the phone. How dare he act concerned now. "She's okay. She's asked for you to come over though."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, I'm on my way back home-"

"Just have Julie meet you here."

"Okay. This sounds serious, Sandy."

"It is. I take Kirsten's well-being very seriously."

Jimmy paused before answering. "Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Sandy hung up, his hands shaking from adrenaline. He dialed a different number.

"Gray."

"Detective, it's Sandy Cohen."

"How are you, Sandy? How's Kirsten?"

"Okay. Can you come over to our house? Kirsten has remembered something from that night. I know it's the weekend but she's requesting you."

"I have to go by the station and get forms and all that stuff but after that, I can be over within the hour."

"Great. Just come on in when you get here."

Detective Gray heard Sandy hang up. It struck him as a bit odd that Sandy would have an open door policy under these circumstances. He had been so strict about Kirsten's safety.

Gray forgot about it quickly. Sandy knew what he was doing.

When Sandy hung up with the detective, he drove back to the house. Instead of returning to his room, he simply sat on the steps of the foyer. He didn't even know if Kirsten knew he was back. When he heard the car door shut, he walked to the front door to meet Jimmy.

"Hey, Sandy. Where's Kirsten?" Jimmy asked as he walked in the door and turned toward the master bedroom.

"She's getting out of the tub. We'll wait in the kitchen." Sandy's heart was racing. It took all of his self-control to not knock Jimmy out where he stood. Sandy could feel his hands shaking.

"Is Kir-?"

"How could you do it?" He interrupted, whispering so his voice would stay level. "How could you watch him hurt her?" Sandy's voice broke as his eyes filled up with tears. All he could think of was his wife's terrified face and her pleas of help that fell on deaf, cowardly ears.

Jimmy was dumbfounded as realization set in. His blood was instantly cold.

"She told me." Sandy breathed. "I know everything."

Jimmy opened his mouth to speak but Sandy cut him off.

"'I'm sorry.'? That's what you told her? That you were sorry?" His voice became stronger as his anger grew.

"Sandy, I-" His words were cut off by the first blow. Sandy hit Jimmy as hard as he could but felt no relief. Jimmy staggered and caught himself on the counter, barely sparing his head from the granite.

"Shut up! I swear. By the time I am through with you, you won't ever say you're sorry again. You won't be able to do anything worth being sorry for!"

He grabbed Jimmy by the collar and slung him against the fridge. The sturdy machine did not budge and Jimmy felt the full weight of the blow. Jimmy's hands grappled at Sandy's shoulders weakly. His knees gave a bit before Sandy snatched him away from the refrigerator and hit him across the face again. Jimmy fell to the floor and Sandy waited, panting from rage, not fatigue.

Jimmy rolled onto his side, a moan escaping his lips. Sandy imagined him sounding like that as he apologized to Kirsten. Every muscle in his body tightened as the thoughts fueled more anger within him.

"Get up," he growled, his arms shaking.

"I can't," Jimmy groaned pathetically and Sandy knew it was an attempt at sympathy. Quickly, he kneeled beside Jimmy.

"I don't feel sorry for you. I never have and I never will. Now, _get up_," he hissed. He grabbed Jimmy's shirt again, pulled him off the floor, and slammed him back against the counter. Jimmy grimaced and threw his head back in pain from the counter hitting his spine. Sandy delivered a merciless blow to Jimmy's stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

With Jimmy bowed over, Sandy put both hands on Jimmy's shoulders before lowering his face toward Jimmy's ear. "I know it wasn't you that actually did it. But I'm still going to do this…" With all the power he could muster, Sandy kneed Jimmy in the groin. A loud groan escaped from Jimmy and he lacked the energy to remain standing. With hands still firmly on Jimmy's shoulders, Sandy held him up against the counter. "You should have stopped that son of a bitch. You should have died fighting for her if that's what it took. You… you…" Sandy started twice before giving up. As much as he preached that words were the way to fix problems, Sandy knew nothing he could say would make him feel better.

Jimmy was still hunched over, not sure what to try to protect. The blows to his stomach and groin were making it hard for him to breathe.

"Look at me," Sandy pushed Jimmy by his shoulders, his head lolling a bit. He pushed again and Jimmy wearily picked up his head. They looked at one another and Jimmy could see Sandy searching for words. When he found none, Sandy's jaw set and his right fist planted an uppercut followed immediately by a straight punch.

Jimmy heard the snap as his nose broke and began to pour blood. He then felt himself fall to the floor.

Sandy had not heard Julie begin to scream at him. He had not seen Detective Gray reach for his firearm or heard his threats. He had not seen Kirsten rushing at him but he felt her hands pushing his chest. He felt all her strength pushing him toward the dining table and away from Jimmy. As he began to breathe and the blood stopped pulsating in his ears, he was brought down to earth and saw and heard what his rage had blinded him from.

Julie was now kneeling beside Jimmy as Detective Gray moved between the couples and looked toward Jimmy to access the damage. Both he and Julie were looking to Sandy and Kirsten for answers.

"What the hell, Sandy?!" Julie asked hysterically.

All eyes were on Sandy. Julie looked at him with horror; Detective Gray with disbelief; Kirsten with the same sadness he had become accustomed to. But Sandy's eyes were focused on Jimmy.

"Why don't you tell them?"

Kirsten still stood in front of Sandy, her hands on his chest. With Julie helping to lift him, Jimmy stood up. He looked up at Kirsten protecting him from Sandy and took a step toward her.

"Kirsten..." he started softly.

Upon hearing him say her name, Kirsten gripped Sandy's shirt and stepped closer to him, farther away from Jimmy. Sandy grabbed his wife protectively and pulled her close to him. "Don't come near her." He snapped venomously. "Don't say her name. Don't do anything. You're good at that."

Jimmy stopped as he saw Kirsten react to him. Now that Sandy knew, she had no reason to hide her hatred for Jimmy. She really didn't want anything to do with him.

"Tell them, Jimmy," Sandy demanded. "I want to hear you say it."

When he remained silent, Sandy nearly attacked him again. "You really are a waste of breath," he snarled. As Sandy tried to move closer to Jimmy, Kirsten pushed against him, holding him to the spot.

"Sandy, will you just tell us what is going on?" Detective Gray asked.

"Jimmy didn't do it, Sandy!" Julie yelled.

"Exactly! He didn't do anything."

"He couldn't do anything! He was knocked out! You can't blame him for that!"

"He wasn't knocked out, Julie. He was awake; he was awake the whole time. And while my wife was being raped, he sat on the ground... And apologized to her." His words were spoken with disgust. "He sat there, fully aware, while it happened. And he did nothing."

Julie finally looked away from Sandy, her eyes no longer angry. Beside her, Jimmy was still looking at Kirsten.

"Mr. Cooper, is this true?" Detective Gray asked.

When he remained silent, Julie spoke firmly. "Jimmy?" Kirsten had not denied Sandy's words. Julie's loyalty to her friend was outweighing everything else.

"That reminds me," Sandy started. "Detective, the assailant knew Jimmy. That's the detail I was telling you about. Kirsten remembered. He called him 'Mr. Cooper'."

"Jimmy, did you know him?" Julie asked. When he didn't answer, she became hysteric. "Did you?!"

"No, of course not. That night is so fuzzy to me. Especially now,"

"Why don't I help you clear your head?" Sandy threatened, tired of Jimmy's excuses.

"Sandy," Kirsten called him down softly and he tightened his arms around her.

"Mr. Cooper, we asked you if there was anyone who might have a reason to target you. You told us 'no.' Was that true?"

"Stolen any money from anyone lately?" Sandy asked. "I guess the whole community makes the list of suspects."

"I didn't know the guy," Jimmy said firmly.

"But he knew you?" Gray asked.

"Is that why you apologized? Because you knew it was your fault," Sandy interjected.

"No. I apologized because I couldn't do anything. I was drunk and..."

"You should have killed yourself to protect her. You should have done whatever it took."

Jimmy couldn't say anything to that. He had wished a hundred times that he had taken action. But it made no difference. He had done nothing and she had suffered. She was still suffering.

"Mr. Cooper, maybe you need to go to the hospital. Then I can ask you a few questions." Detective Gray turned toward Sandy and Kirsten. "Kirsten, can we come by tomorrow and get a statement from you?"

She finally turned from Sandy and looked at the detective. "That'll be fine," she said softly.

As he went to leave, Jimmy dared one last look at Kirsten. She wouldn't meet his eyes. He turned to leave, the detective to his right. Julie didn't move.

"Julie?" He asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

She looked at him with disappointment and shook her head slowly. After Jimmy left, Julie approached Kirsten. "I had no idea, Kirsten."

"I know," she said, offering a small smile to her friend.

"I'm so sorry," she said as she hugged Kirsten. "I'll come back for the other car."

"Actually, Julie, can you take me somewhere?"

Surprised, Sandy and Julie both looked at Kirsten.

Julie looked at Sandy confused before answering. "Um, yeah. Of course."

Kirsten began toward the bedroom, Sandy close behind her.

"Kirsten, where in the world could you be going?"

She stopped in their room, emotion overcoming her. He was breaking her heart and he didn't even know it.

Suddenly, she turned and tightly wrapped her arms around him. The way she held him to her scared Sandy. As she clung to him, she began to cry. He responded as he always did when she cried.

"Shh, it's gonna be okay," he soothed, as he stroked her hair. Though, he didn't even believe the words himself.

"I love you," she whimpered. "I love you so much, Sandy." She squeezed him tighter to her before pulling back from his chest. "But I can't do this right now," she said slowly.

"Kirsten..."

Her hands cupped his face. "I'm sorry, Sandy. But I have to be selfish right now." Her hands fell away from his face as she moved into the closet and began to pack.

"No, baby. I'll go." He began to move toward the closet. "You should stay in your own house, your own bed. I'll go."

"No, I need to get away from the house." Away from you, his mind finished for her.

He stood in the same spot as he watched her place clothes in her bag. When she had placed the final article in and zipped the bag, Sandy finally moved toward her. To Kirsten's surprise, he reached for the bag. When she hesitated, he softly said, "It's the least I could do."

He took it quickly to Julie's car and set it inside before standing in the driveway, unsure of what to do. Julie and Kirsten walked out of the house, Julie even more unsure than Sandy. Relieving her friend of the situation, Kirsten asked Julie for a moment.

"Of course," Julie answered before getting into the car.

Kirsten looked at her husband with his hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground, afraid to look at her. He didn't want to break down in front of Julie.

Kirsten didn't speak. Nothing she could say sounded right in her mind. Once again, she wrapped her arms firmly around her husband. He couldn't help but think that she was hugging him like it was the last time she would ever do so. He tried not to think that way; this couldn't be it.

After a long moment, she pulled back, though she remained close. Her eyes were once again filled with tears and Sandy wondered if he would ever stop making her cry. Her left hand cupped his face and she kissed his cheek before holding his face to hers for a moment. Finally, she pulled away, squeezed his hands, and walked away.

"Are you sure, Kirsten?" Julie asked, seeing how upset her friend was.

"Just go," Kirsten said, staring out of the passenger window. She couldn't watch him watch her disappear.

After a few miles down the road, Julie told her, "There are napkins in the glove compartment."

Kirsten grabbed a few to wipe away the tears that had never stopped. This was even harder than rehab. Rehab was for her to get better. Now she was worried about Sandy's recovery, a much bigger concern than she would ever be to herself. She just needed to get away and think. Think about her husband, about herself, about everything.

Julie pulled up to the hotel and went in with Kirsten as she scheduled a room. When they entered the room, Kirsten asked her, "Will you call Sandy? Let him know I'm safe? Just don't tell him where I am."

Julie nodded. "And when he wants to speak with you?"

"I'm not sure he will."

"Kirsten. He's Sandy. First and foremost, he is not going to want to talk to me," she quipped, hoping to lighten the situation a bit. "And, of course, he is going to want to speak to you."

Kirsten thought for a moment. "I just can't right now," she said softly.

"Okay. I'll take care of it."

Julie dialed the number and stepped out of the room into the hallway. He picked up quickly.

"Sandy. She wanted me to let you know she is safe," Julie paused.

"Okay." He sounded terrible. "Is she staying with you?"

"I think it might be best if you don't know where she is staying. Take some time focusing on yourselves. It might help center you, get back on track," Julie answered, wanting to take any blame for Kirsten. Let Sandy be irritated with her instead of his wife.

Sandy was quiet for a moment. "She doesn't want me to know," he responded, knowingly. Both ends of the call were silent for a second. "And she doesn't want to talk with me, either."

"Sandy..."

"It's okay, Julie. It is. We shouldn't put you in the middle."

"She's my best friend, Sandy. I'm going to do whatever for her. Especially considering..."

"Yeah. But you said she is safe?"

"Of course."

"Okay." He paused. "Julie? Thank you."

Julie returned to Kirsten's room.

"Did he fight with you?"

Julie shook her head. Somehow, her answer made Kirsten feel even worse.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Julie." Her tone had a goodbye attached to the end of it.

"Do you want me to stay?" She offered.

"I just need to be alone. To think."

"I understand. But if you need anything..." Kirsten nodded her head, accepting the offer. "I mean it, call me."

"I will," Kirsten answered. "Thank you," she added sincerely as they hugged.

After Julie left, Kirsten wasn't sure exactly what to do. She decided to lie down and watch television, having had enough real life drama for one day. She would think tomorrow.

Sandy sat on the couch and, for the hundredth time since they had moved into it all those years ago, he marveled at the immensity of the house. Even with four people in it, the house was humongous, too big really. With one person, it was unbearable. He looked into their immaculate refrigerator to see if there was something to eat to pass the time. He settled on water from the tap; he couldn't eat if he tried. He tried to numb his mind with television to no avail. He was exhausted but he couldn't take himself to bed, not if Kirsten wasn't going to be there.

He lay down on the couch, letting the television entertain itself, and thought about what had happened. He was sorry that he had made Kirsten feel so hopeless that she had left him but he couldn't bring himself to be sorry for what he had done. He knew Jimmy deserved all of it and more and he was glad he had been able to serve that justice.

He imagined how Kirsten must feel: trying to save her husband from himself. Then his stomach ached when he realized he knew exactly how it felt. Had he not done the same thing a year ago? Kirsten had nearly destroyed herself with alcoholism, while Sandy watched helplessly, knowing he was the cause of her turn.

Sandy felt his pulse throb in his knuckles and raised his hands to look at them. He tried to feel remorseful. He thought of Kirsten, of watching her leave today, of leaving her at Suriak a year ago. Nothing worked; he could not feel sorry for hitting Jimmy.

After several terrible episodes of some reality show he figured Julie would watch, Sandy couldn't take it anymore. He picked up his phone, selected the picture of Kirsten, and called her.

"Hey," she answered quietly.

"Hey," he paused. The sound of her voice stilled him. "I know you need some space and I respect that but please, baby. Just tell me where you are so I'll know you are safe."

"I'm at the Broughton."

"Okay." He paused. "And you're safe?"

"Yes, Sandy. The door is locked, chained. I'm fine."

"Okay." He paused again, trying to let the information calm him. "I _want_ to tell you I'm sorry."

"But you're not. And I understand. I know why you did it. I know it's not fair for me to ask you to be sorry for it." Kirsten didn't want to hurt his feelings but she needed to be honest with him. "I know this is killing you. But you are killing me. I am trying to move on from this, put it behind me, forget it as best I can. But you won't let me. You don't say anything but you remind me about what happened every day.

"I am sorry, Sandy, but right now, I just need to be alone. I need to think." This was killing her. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Do what you need to do." She could tell that he was crying. Her heart broke and she wondered for the hundredth time if this was the right thing to do. "Take your time, take care of yourself. Whenever you're ready, whatever you need, I'll be right here. Goodnight, Kirsten."


End file.
